A Second Chance

A Second Chance

Mathis B. Rogers

© Copyright 4/26/10 Mathis B. Rogers

Smashwords Edition

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Chapter 1

I heard that his grandfather killed his grandmother in the foyer and her ghost still walks the halls at night.

That's not what happened, his grandmother killed his grandfather in the kitchen and then killed herself. Now both ghosts quarrel all night long tossing pots and pans at each other.

Children don't get too close, the fence is electrified. You'll both be fried alive. Come along. Here comes the bus. Let's get on it.

I smiled as I watched the nanny with her two young charges. I could tell by looking at them that they were brother and sister. The boy was not more than seven or eight, his sister a few years younger. He was the one who had spoken last. I loved the imagination he had about the ghosts throwing pots and pans at each other all night. I'd have to remember that one.

After their bus departed, I sighed and walked over to the electric fence. A large hedge blocked the view of the house from the bus stop, but from where I now stood, I could see up the plush rolling green lawn to the white mansion that stood on the hill. Somehow, as I looked at it, it seemed lonely. Having lived in Toppersville all my life, I knew all the stories associated with the mansion, but the one the boy told was new. Apparently, the new set of school kids had made up their own stories. I guess we all did, didn't we? I whispered as the gates a few feet away slid slowly open and a long black limousine immerged from within the plush estate.

Pulling to a stop beside me, I was startled when the back window was lowered. Lynn? Lynn Anthony? Is that you? The voice coming from the inside of the limo seemed familiar, but I couldn't place it.

I stepped closer and bent forward. The door opened and a handsome young man pushed himself out. I gasped. Hunter Yates? What are you doing in there? I asked.

Not surprisingly, he was dressed for the part of being in a limo by wearing a black tux with a white-ruffled shirt and black bow tie, but I was surprised that he’d be dressed that way this early in the morning.

I thought you knew that old-man Largoue was my grandfather? he replied.

No, I…No, I never knew that. I'm sorry.

He grinned and I melted.

Hunter and I had been in the same grade and took the same classes all through high school. Wait a minute, I said. Now that I think about it, you are the one who told me that old-lady Largoue had killed her husband and he walked the hallways at night.

Hunter blushed and shrugged. Sorry. I just didn't want anyone to know I was related to them—back then.

I can understand why, I admitted. Being related to the richest family in town could have its disadvantages.

That’s true, he agreed. Everyone would want me to pay for everything for them if they couldn’t afford something.

And just be friends for what you could buy them instead of for who you are, I agreed.

He nodded. I had felt that we were fairly good friends during high school, but I’d never gone to his house and he’d never come over to mine.

Why are you waiting for the bus? he wanted to know. Surely you have a car? You graduated Valedictorian. You should have a great job, too.

Yes, I do, to both counts. But it costs too much to park downtown and I'm a tightwad, so I take the bus in.

He glanced over at the curb where other passengers were starting to gather and leer at the black stretch limo. I could see my bus just down the street. Although I had ridden the bus for over a year and most of these people rode with me every day, I didn't know any of them by name.

Come on. I'll give you a ride so we can catch up, he offered, motioning to the interior of the limo.

Well, I don't want to put you out, I admitted. But I would like to talk to you for a while.

Cool. Let's go, then.

I sat down on the black leather seat and scooted over behind the driver as Hunter folded his six-foot three-inch frame back into the seat beside me. He had plenty of room to stretch his long legs out once he closed the door.

Ever been in one of these? he asked.

No, I haven't. It's nice.

Thanks. Where do you work?

Thompson, Chandler, and Borge, I replied.

He frowned. That's a law firm, isn't it? Surely you're not a lawyer.

I chuckled and shook my head as my bus pulled to a stop. No. It's an architecture firm.

Oh, yeah. That's right. David Thompson, Alvin Chandler and John Borge run it, don't they?

Yes. I don't understand why they didn't call it Thompson, Chandler, and Borge Architecture, though. But, no, I'm not a lawyer; I am an architect. I haven't ever actually built anything, but I have designed a few places that have started being constructed.

Cool, he said, lowering the window between the driver and us as the bus pulled out into the street. Lucas, please swing by Thompson, Chandler, and Borge to drop off my friend, Mr. Anthony, here.

Yes, Sir, Mr. Yates, he replied and eased the luxurious car out into the street turning right to head towards town.

Thank you, I said as Hunter pushed the button to raise the window again.

So, what do you do? I asked as we overtook the bus. I knew that I would get to work a lot earlier this morning than usual since we wouldn't be making all the stops the bus did.

I took my grandfather's footsteps in Largoue-Yates Shipping, he explained. Granddad Yates had a stroke last year and can't work any longer. Dad took over Granddad Largoue's place a long time ago, so I'm working side-by-side with Dad now. As you know, we build ships. Dad and I run the company; we don't do the actual work. We have a wonderful staff that does that.

Sounds like fun, I replied.

It's hard work, though, he admitted. There's a lot to do to make sure that everyone is doing their job right. Would hate to have a ship sink because of poor craftsmanship.

I can understand that, I agreed. So it's a requirement to wear a tux to work every day?

Hunter's chuckle sent a warm feeling through me as he shook his head and replied, No. We've got a client flying in from New York this morning. We're actually headed to the airport, but we have time to drop you off at work. We've already got his cruise ship built, we just have to take him to it and we're having a bon voyage party at noon when we christen it and he's taking the virgin cruise to the Bahamas. All the guests should begin boarding at ten and the crew is awaiting Mr. Albright's arrival and inspection before they board.

Sounds like fun, I said. Are you going on the cruise?

No. I don't have time. I've got some other things that I have to get done here this afternoon.

We're here, Mr. Yates,